Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner

The mid afternoon sun rose high in the sky.
And somewhere in the outlands, stretched an empty and barren landscape for kilometers in every direction. Kelvin stood in the center of a natural basin, surrounded by rock formations that provided some shelter from wind but otherwise offered nothing but desolation.
Perfect for testing.
Diana watched from a safe distance—roughly two hundred meters back, positioned on elevated ground with clear sightlines. They’d taken one of Eclipse’s smaller transports out here specifically for this, wanting isolation in case something went catastrophically wrong.
“You sure about this?” Diana called out, her voice carrying across the empty space.
“Absolutely not!” Kelvin replied cheerfully. “But we’re doing it anyway!”
KROME sat on the ground in pieces, the exoskeleton framework laid out in organized sections. Kelvin had spent the past two days making final adjustments, integrating the Category 5 cores he’d acquired, calibrating power distribution systems. Everything tested functional in the workshop.
Now came the real test.
He started with the legs, stepping into the framework and feeling magnetic locks engage around his calves and thighs. The exoskeleton interfaced with his cybernetic systems immediately, neural connections establishing faster than he’d expected. Weight distributed across his enhanced prosthetics, and for the first time, KROME felt like an extension rather than equipment.
Chest plate next, the heavy armor settling across his torso with a satisfying mechanical click. Power conduits linked to the leg assembly automatically, energy beginning to flow through the entire system. His HUD activated, flooding his vision with readouts and diagnostic data.
[KROME SYSTEMS ONLINE]
[POWER: 98%]
[ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL]
Arm assemblies locked into place, interfacing directly with his prosthetic limbs. The connection was seamless—his cybernetic arms became the exoskeleton’s arms, no separation between organic control and mechanical enhancement.
Finally, the helmet. As it sealed, his entire world transformed into an augmented reality interface. Threat detection, movement tracking, energy monitoring, tactical overlays—everything a soldier could want displayed in clean, readable formats.
“How’s it feel?” Diana asked through the comms.
“Like wearing a tank,” Kelvin replied. “But in a good way. Let’s see what this thing can do.”
He took a step. The exoskeleton moved with him, servo-assisted motion making the heavy frame feel weightless. Another step, then another, building speed naturally. Within seconds he was running at velocities his unassisted body could never achieve.
“Speed test,” Kelvin announced, pushing harder.
The landscape blurred. His HUD tracked velocity as he accelerated across the basin floor—fifty kilometers per hour, seventy, ninety. The exoskeleton’s leg servos were handling the stress perfectly, power distribution remaining stable despite the increased demand.
“One hundred twenty kph,” Diana reported from her position. “You’re moving.”
Kelvin laughed, the sound slightly manic even through the comms. “Let’s see how high this goes.”
He engaged the full sprint mode, letting KROME’s enhanced capabilities take over. The acceleration was incredible—reality compressed into a tunnel as his speed climbed past anything he’d achieved before. The HUD displayed numbers that made his brain struggle to process.
Two hundred kilometers per hour. Two fifty. Three hundred.
“Kelvin, that’s Mach point two-four,” Diana said, her voice carrying concern now. “You’re approaching unsafe velocities for ground movement.”
“Just a little more,” Kelvin replied, watching the numbers climb.
Three hundred fifty. Four hundred. The wind resistance was becoming problematic, his trajectory slightly unstable.
Four hundred fifty kilometers per hour.
“That’s it,” Diana said firmly. “You’re at Mach point three-six. Any faster and you’ll lose control.”
Kelvin gradually reduced speed, letting KROME’s systems handle deceleration smoothly. By the time he came to a complete stop, he was breathing hard—not from exertion, but from pure adrenaline.
“Flight systems next,” he announced.
“You have flight systems?” Diana’s surprise was evident.
“Of course I have flight systems. What kind of combat exoskeleton doesn’t fly?”
He activated the back-mounted thrusters, feeling them ignite with a familiar vibration. The lift was immediate—KROME rose smoothly off the ground, ascending on columns of controlled thrust. Ten meters. Twenty. Fifty.
The basin spread out below him, and for the second time in his life, Kelvin Pithon was genuinely flying under his own power. Not in a ship, not using “borrowed” equipment like the last time—this was his creation, his engineering, his design.
He ascended higher, testing altitude limits. One hundred meters. Two hundred. The air grew thinner but KROME’s systems compensated automatically, adjusting thrust to maintain stable hover.
“How’s the power consumption?” Diana asked.
Kelvin checked his HUD. “Still at seventy-three percent. More efficient than projected. The Category 5 cores are handling the load well.”
He executed a series of aerial maneuvers—banking turns, rapid ascents, controlled dives. KROME responded to his neural commands instantly, the exoskeleton moving like an extension of his own body. This was what he’d envisioned, what he’d spent weeks building toward.
The ability to actually contribute in fights that mattered.
“Coming down,” Kelvin announced, beginning controlled descent.
That’s when the warnings started.
[ALERT: POWER FLUCTUATION DETECTED]
[WARNING: CORE STABILITY DEGRADING]
[ALERT: THRUST SYSTEM COMPROMISED]
“Uh,” Kelvin said, watching his power percentage drop rapidly. “That’s not good.”
“What’s not good?” Diana’s voice sharpened with concern.
“Power’s dropping faster than it should. The cores are—” His HUD flashed red. “They’re burning out. Too much sustained output, not enough regeneration time.”
[POWER: 41%]
[POWER: 28%]
[POWER: 15%]
“Land NOW,” Diana ordered.
“Working on it!” Kelvin angled toward the ground, trying to execute controlled descent while his power systems failed around him. The thrusters sputtered, lost cohesion, reignited briefly before failing again.
[POWER: 7%]
[CRITICAL: FLIGHT SYSTEMS OFFLINE]
Kelvin fell.
Fifty meters of empty air between him and the rocky ground, gravity asserting its dominance as KROME’s systems completely shut down. The exoskeleton became dead weight, dragging him toward terminal impact that would turn him into paste inside his own creation.
Then Diana was there.
Her momentum nullification caught him mid-fall, creating a dead zone that stopped his descent completely. Kelvin hung suspended in empty air, alive solely because Diana had reacted fast enough to save him from his own hubris.
“I’ve got you,” she said, her voice tight with effort. The strain of stopping that much mass and velocity was evident. “Just… hold still.”
She guided his frozen form down to the ground, gradually releasing the null effect once he was safely on solid rock. Kelvin collapsed immediately, the dead exoskeleton dragging him down. His legs wouldn’t support the weight without power.
“Help,” he said weakly. “Can’t move.”
Diana reached him seconds later, manually disengaging the locking mechanisms that kept KROME attached. The exoskeleton fell away in pieces, leaving Kelvin sprawled on the ground in his regular clothes, breathing hard and shaking slightly from adrenaline crash.
“You almost died,” Diana said flatly.
“Yeah.”
“That was stupid.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
Kelvin laughed, the sound slightly unhinged. “I flew, Diana. I actually flew. And hit Mach point three-six on the ground. And almost died because I didn’t properly calculate sustained power draw.” He sat up slowly. “So no, not okay. But also, that was amazing.”
Diana stared at him for a moment, then shook her head with something that might have been grudging respect. “You’re insane.”
“Probably.” Kelvin looked at the scattered KROME pieces. “But now I know what works and what doesn’t. The cores can’t sustain prolonged high-output operations. I need a better power source or more efficient energy management. The exploding sun idea is looking more attractive by the hour.”
“Or you could just accept that not everything needs to fly at supersonic speeds,” Diana suggested.
“Where’s the fun in that? Besides…Lucas and Storm pull it off even in their sleep,”
They gathered the KROME components in relative silence, loading them back into the transport. The exoskeleton was intact despite the power failure—good engineering meant systems shut down gracefully rather than catastrophically. But Kelvin’s expression remained thoughtful, his mind clearly already working on solutions to the power problem.
As they prepared to lift off, Diana paused. “I’m buying lunch on the way back.”
Kelvin looked up, surprised. “You don’t have to—”
“You almost died testing equipment that might save all of us during the northern assault,” Diana interrupted. “Least I can do is buy you food. Plus, you look like you need about five thousand calories and a nap.”
“I look that bad?”
“You look like someone who just discovered the limits of their own mortality while wearing a flying tank suit.”
“Fair assessment.”
They stopped at a settlement on the return flight, finding a small establishment that served food to hunters and faction members passing through. Diana ordered enough to feed four people, and Kelvin managed to eat most of it despite his earlier claims of not being hungry.
“The mission,” Diana said eventually, breaking comfortable silence. “The northern assault. You think KROME will be ready?”
“The framework is solid,” Kelvin replied. “Power management is the issue. If I can solve that, yeah, it’ll be ready. If not…” He shrugged. “I’ll go anyway. Just with less personal protection and more reliance on not getting hit.”
“That’s a terrible plan.”
“It’s the plan we have.”
Diana was quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to prove anything, you know. Nobody thinks less of you because you’re support rather than frontline.”
“I know,” Kelvin said. “But I think less of me. And that matters more.”
They finished eating and headed back to Eclipse headquarters, the transport cutting through afternoon sky. The faction building came into view gradually, its eclipse symbol visible from kilometers away.
As they descended toward the landing bay, Kelvin’s comms activated. Sam’s voice, tight with urgency.
“Noah, Diana, whoever’s listening—we need everyone in the briefing room immediately. Emergency situation.”
“What kind of emergency?” Diana asked, already unbuckling.
“Surveillance just picked up something at the northern facility. Everyone needs to see this. Now.”
They practically ran from the landing bay to the briefing room, finding the rest of the team already assembled. Sam stood near the holographic displays, his expression carrying the kind of tension that preceded very bad news.
“Show them,” Noah said quietly.
Sam activated the display.
Drone footage appeared—high altitude surveillance of the northern facility taken maybe an hour ago. The quality was excellent, Lucy’s equipment providing crystal-clear imagery of the complex below.
But it wasn’t the facility that drew attention.
It was the figures moving through the exterior courtyard.
Harbingers. Multiple of them, visible even from altitude. Their massive forms unmistakable as they moved with purpose between buildings.
“Confirmed Harbinger presence,” Sam said. “At least six visible in this footage, possibly more inside the facility proper.”
The recruits who’d gathered murmured nervously. Harbingers weren’t beasts. They were extinction events given physical form.
“Show them the other image,” Sophie said quietly.
Sam pulled up a different frame, zoomed in, enhanced. The figure at the center of the courtyard became clear.
Eight to nine feet tall. Scaled. Feminine characteristics. Four unmistakable horns protruding from her skull in perfect symmetrical curves.
The room went silent.
“What is that?” Valencia asked, her voice small.
“That’s a four-horn,” Torres replied, his face pale. “Four-horned Harbingers are… those are the ones that destroy cities.”
More murmurs spread through the recruits. Fear, mostly. A few trying to maintain composure, but everyone understood what facing a four-horn meant.
Diana spoke, her voice carrying across the room. “That’s the Widow.”
Every head turned.
Sophie added, “Sirius Mission.”
Noah stared at the image, his expression unreadable.
“You’ve encountered this specific Harbinger before?” Marcus asked carefully.
“On Sirius,” Diana confirmed. “When we fought Kruel.”
The recruits exchanged glances, processing implications.
“And you survived?” Kira’s question carried disbelief.
“Barely.”
Noah finally spoke, his voice quiet but carrying to everyone. “It had three horns then.”
The room went completely silent.
Understanding dawned across faces. This wasn’t just a four-horn Harbinger. This was a known threat that had evolved. Gotten stronger.
“Same individual?” Seraleth asked.
“Same one,” Noah confirmed. “I’d recognize that movement anywhere.”
Valencia looked between Noah and Diana. “If you barely survived when it was weaker and you were—” She stopped, reconsidering her words. “What I mean is, what chance do we have now?”
Noah and Diana exchanged a look.
The look that said everything anyone needed to know about how dangerous the Widow truly was.
“We complete the mission,” Noah said finally. “We stick to the plan—Eclipse draws attention topside, Grey secures objectives underground. If you encounter the Widow, we avoid engagement unless absolutely necessary. Our job is intelligence and disruption, not elimination.”
“And if we can’t avoid her?” Torres pressed.
“Then we do what we always do,” Diana replied. “We survive long enough to extract.”
The briefing continued, but the energy had shifted. Everyone understood now—this wasn’t just another dangerous mission. This was walking into hell with a map that might be outdated and firepower that might not be sufficient.
But Eclipse Faction had never backed down from threats before.
They weren’t starting now.